


These Arms of Mine

by emmykay



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Other, Platonic Cuddling, professional cuddling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-14 12:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmykay/pseuds/emmykay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakaeguchi is a professional cuddler.  These are his clients.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mihashi

**Author's Note:**

> [ Professional cuddling is a thing now,](http://www.people.com/article/professional-cuddling-shop-cuddle-up-to-me-portland-oregon) I guess.
> 
> Title from Otis Redding song. 
> 
> Stand alone drabbles/short shorts, to be added to infrequently.

The first time Sakaeguchi meets Mihashi, it's in Mihashi's apartment. 

Mihashi is a thin blond, a little shorter than he is, dressed in baggy workout gear. He's also very apologetic, eyes scanning over the mess in the living room; clothes, furniture that requires further assembly, dishes that appear to be clean but not put away, a scatter of electronics. The large hazel eyes then dart back toward Sakaeguchi, as the softly formed mouth begins stuttering out half-formed regrets.

Sakaeguchi smiles, trying to put his client at ease. He knows his own appearance - brown-haired, neutrally attractive - works reasonably well for his job. "It's all right," he says. "Your apartment is very nice." He decides to get down to business, thinking maybe that's the way it will work with someone like Mihashi. "Like I wrote in the email, a full session is fifty minutes and fifty dollars. I can pro-rate up to half an hour. If there is anything you don't like, or anything you do like, please let me know."

Mihashi nods so vigorously Sakaeguchi is afraid he'll snap his own head off.

"We can just sit on the couch and hold hands, if you want to get used to the idea," Sakaeguchi offers.

"Can we - can we - lie on the bed?" 

A bit surprised at Mihashi's sudden request, Sakaeguchi nods. "No problem." Mihashi leads the way to a large room, empty but for a bed, desk, and a couple of lamps. The afternoon light filters in through the large, white-curtained windows.

"Oh, no," Mihashi says. He leaps forward to first clear the bed of clothes, a few video game consoles, a baseball mitt and ball. "S-s-sorry." He attempts to shake out the bedspread, a newish blanket covered with a cartoon bird. He looks up in surprise when Sakaeguchi grabs the farther end and helps him pull it flat. "You don't have to - "

"I like helping," Sakaeguchi says.

"Is that why - "

"Yes," Sakaeguchi replies. "What position do you like?"

"L-l-little spoon!" And then, abashed, Mihashi says, softer, blushing, "P-please."

"All right. I'll start the timer now," Sakaeguchi says, adjusting his wrist watch. He waits while Mihashi lays down, and then curls up behind him, one arm across Mihashi's slender waist. The bed gives with a creak, forming a cradle around them. Mihashi is thinner than he looks under the baggy clothes he is wearing; not bony, but definitely lacking some padding in key areas. Under the fringe of his blond hair, the back of Mihashi's neck is pale in the indirect light. It smells like talcum powder. Mihashi lays his arm over Sakaeguchi's arm, his skin cool. 

Mihashi suddenly jerks upright.

"Is this not okay?" Sakaeguchi asks, carefully. He is working at not spreading his surprise to his already anxious client.

"I - I - " and then Mihashi turns and burrows into Sakaeguchi's chest, wrapping a surprisingly strong arm tightly around Sakaeguchi's ribs, his hand pressing against his spine. "Sorry," Mihashi says, from the depths of the space between them. "Sorry."

"Is this better?" Sakaeguchi asks.

"Uh-huh." Mihashi's shoulders are doing a quick, shuddering movement. 

"Then it's good." Sakaeguchi gently brings his hand down to pat Mihashi's back. This feels like the right thing, even though Sakaeguchi can't be certain. The online customer survey that was sent with the initial contact was never filled in, even though payment was sent ahead of the visit. 

Gradually, ever so gradually, Mihashi's breathing slows. Sakaeguchi starts to relax. He thinks Mihashi has fallen asleep. His is a strange job, he knows, a form of adult-sitting, but it suits him. He likes to see what comfort his presence provides.

The watch beeps, and Sakaeguchi gently untangles himself. Mihashi lays in place and rubs both his eyes with his fists, like a child. He raises his head when Sakaeguchi climbs off the bed. 

"You can stay," Sakaeguchi says. His mouth quivers with the chuckle he's holding back. "It's your bed, after all."

"No, no, I'll - " Once Mihashi does get up, one of his cheeks is reddened from the pressure of having laid on it for so long.

Mihashi sees Sakaeguchi out. At the door, Mihashi asks, hesitantly, "Can - can - do you - would you do this again?" The final sentence comes out in a rush.

"Of course," Sakaeguchi says. He wants to give Mihashi a reassuring touch, but hesitates at the line of client/service provider. "If you don't mind, please fill out the survey, so I can see if there was anything you liked more than some of the other things."

Mihashi nods, vigorously.


	2. Mizutani

Sakaeguchi looked down at the address that had been emailed to him. He'd never been to this building before, the large neon marquee above him was dark in the late morning light. The street was largely deserted except for some scattered handbills and a few sleepy-looking pedestrians. He supposed it looked much different at night, when the entire stretch would be lit up with party-goers in their finest evening wear, glittering and sparking with an energy that can't be replicated during the day. 

Mizutani popped out of one of the large double glass doors, waving. "Hey!"

Sakaeguchi followed Mizutani through those large doors and past the casual-looking security guard, up some concrete stairs, and then through another set of double doors. The lights are dim compared to the outside and Sakaeguchi's eyes took a minute to adjust. On the other side of the polished steel doors was a great open space of scuffed hardwood, bracketed by several chairs and tables, some stacked, others just pushed up against the gaudily painted walls. The near end was a long, granite bar. At the far end was a small stage dominated enormous speakers and a table holding a complicated series of electronics.

"I haven't heard from you for a while," Sakaeguchi said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm great," Mizutani smiled. "I started dating someone. Again."

"Good, that's good," Sakaeguchi said, genuinely pleased for him. From what Sakaeguchi understood, Mizutani's happy-go-lucky exterior was a good part of his professional draw as a night club promoter. He had called Sakaeguchi with the not uncommon story of a bad breakup and needing an undemanding outlet. Sakaeguchi had been happy to comply; Mizutani was a good client, pleasant, punctual. That Mizutani had found a new relationship at the same time he stopped calling - well, that too was not uncommon. Sakaeguchi took it in stride - sometimes, his job was all about helping people over difficult time. Once the difficulty is overcome, they stop calling.

"But that's why I called." Mizutani looked down at his hands and sighed. "They - I just need a little bit of time."

Sakaeguchi looked at the dance floor, hesitant. "Is there a place you want to go?" he asked.

"Right here is fine."

"Well, if you want to on the floor - "

"Oh - oh!" Mizutani laughed, suddenly understanding. "This isn't a place to lie down. I want to dance with you."

Smiling with relief, Sakaeguchi then expressed his concern. "I don't dance very well," he said. "I didn't know - "

"It's okay," Mizutani said. "It's better if you don't know how to dance anyway." He paused. "If it's okay for you? I didn't even think -"

"It's fine," Sakaeguchi reassured him. "If this place is where you want to be?" he ended with a rising, questioning intonation. 

"The owner won't care I'm using the space right now. Stay here." Mizutani jogged over to the stage and stuck a small drive into the main body of the sound system. A small, barely audible buzz leaked into the main room. Then the first few bars of an upbeat pop song that was incredibly popular a few years ago began playing.

Holding out his arms, Mizutani returned to Sakaeguchi. Sakaeguchi walked into them, and Mizutani embraced him, a familiar form after all these months, even if made somewhat different by the fact of standing up instead of lying down. Mizutani was just a little taller than he was, and Sakaeguchi felt a long exhale against his own temple as Mizutani relaxed against him.

Mizutani was slender, with the deceptive lean muscularity of a long-time dancer. They stood there, moving just a little, swaying to the beat. The music changed; from bright pop to something fuller, sweeter, jazzy. Mizutani's body almost swung with joy during those songs as he hummed along.

Slowly, slowly, the music became more percussive, the singers' voices became deeper, the tempo slower. Ballads. Mizutani stopped humming.

A crash of cymbals heralded another change, and Mizutani's hands fisted across the back of Sakaeguchi's shirt. Vocalists spat beautifully phrased spite against angry guitars. He dropped his forehead onto Sakaeguchi's shoulder, shoulders hunching. Sakaeguchi raised his arms, pressing tightly against Mizutani's back as Mizutani shivered. 

The next song was one Sakaeguchi had never heard before; a slow-paced, rocking chair sort of song, a kind of hushed drum brush-type of percussion with a mournful violin carrying the melody.

The quiet beep of Sakaeguchi's alarm rang. He reached to turn it off.

Mizutani lifted his head, stepping back. A glimmer of damp could be see in the corners of his expressive eyes. "I'm sorry, I thought I had timed the songs better - your schedule - "

"It's okay," Sakaeguchi said, gently exerting himself to pull Mizutani back into his arms. "A little longer won't throw me off."

"This will be the last time," Mizutani said, apologetic. Still, he allowed himself to be drawn back against Sakaeguchi's body, back into the slow rhythm of music and swaying movements of their dance. "I won't do it again," he murmured, barely audible, as if to himself. 

"I don't mind," Sakaeguchi replied.

Mizutani didn't answer, burying his face against Sakaeguchi's shoulder. 

"It's okay," Sakaeguchi repeated, softly, grabbing and holding Mizutani's hand, absorbing the sniffing sobbing breaths against his chest. "It's going to be okay."


End file.
